Ciao, Vecchio Amico
by wrachett
Summary: In darkness he had come to the aging stonesman. Soon, it's not only is this kindred spirit that is luring young Erik away from the awaiting darkness. EOW, Pre-Christine. Set in Susan Kay's Phantom!verse.
1. Prologue

**Summary: **In darkness he had come to the aging stonesman. Soon, it's not only is this kindred spirit that is luring young Erik away from the awaiting darkness. EOW, Pre-Christine. Set in Susan Kay's Phantom!verse.

**A.N.** Hello, and thanks for checking this out! For the first time this past November I read Phantom (which was awesome, except for the last two sections) and immediately this little plot bunny hopped into my mind. That being said, I wrote this with Susan Kay's style in mind, and I really hope it shows. Leave a review even if it doesn't? This is awfully short (and there is no Erik, which makes this even more upsetting), but don't worry; the chapters to come are longer!

**Disclaimer**: Erik would have been a happier little phantom had I control over his soul. Alas, he is not, so I guess you can make the connection.

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I used to wonder about things sometimes. Usually while in passing while I busied myself with mundane work or errands. The most reoccurring idea that came to mind was how life is so precious, and this one chance we've been given should be taken advantage of to the fullest. A thought that soon followed thereafter is that was in fact the truth, then those who lead lives of adventure are lucky people. I envied a life like that, a life of riches and worries far spread and few in numbers.

Many a time I would dally in my cleaning as the guests in the small hotel that employed me shared their stories of adventure to my fellow Italians. These foreign guests were always extremely wealthy, and had all of us completely entranced by the stories they told. Some had been as far to America, and others had traveled the Orient. I was always extremely envious of their adventurous lives. Mind you, I was a young girl, merely a cleaning person to help my father keep us both fed and as healthy as we could be. The only escape from my childhood poverty was my fantasy, where I was a rich Signora who had seen all four corners of the world, and had discovered the fifth. People were entranced by my beauty and came to woo me, and I was never with worry.

How silly I had been. Thirteen was a tender age for me as my father's health began to decline faster than the savings we had put away. I had hoped to ease my father's burden by working at a hotel that had recently lost a young woman they had been employing to a young suitor who whisked her away to France, but the commute to work and home was rather far after a full day of work and more often than not I slept in the back room of the inn which forced my father to take care of himself. Perhaps that was what made his death arrive as soon as it had. My mother and younger brother had already passed on years before when the pregnancy went terribly wrong, and so there I was, orphaned and taken in by the couple that owned the inn I worked in, but not without a large price. The hotel had been one that for generations, would take in children that would have been otherwise left on the street to raise and sell for prostitution, and immediately beginning that year I was to be prepared for that purpose.

And that was when I met Erik.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I own my laptop and some water. Not the book by Susan Kay or Erik. Le sigh...

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Even back then, his mask hadn't been something I thought to be wary of. No, my first impression of the young man who I met on the darkened streets of Rome that night was not influenced in the least by that dirty leather mask. There were other things on my mind at the time of our first conversation with one another.

Work at the hotel had been particularly unbearable that day with the Signora sick. While she was too ill to help with the workload she was still healthy enough to breathe down all of our necks and insult us with more fervor than she normally did. The evening brought no relief to me, either. Men constantly came at night to drink and cause uproar. In their drunkenness they would antagonize the young women who served them in the evenings. That night the men were particularly vulgar, and I snuck away from the loud debauch that was taking place to save myself from having to deal with men's wandering hands.

After coming to live with the Signora I hardly had any time to be alone. I appreciated the stillness of the streets when the sun was gone, and to escape the horror where I had to stay, I took refuge in the abandoned city streets. It was just to my misfortune a man had followed me out of the pub on the first floor of the inn that night.

"Little miss," he slurred, and I turned to him, warily.

"Good evening, Signor," I said politely, the way my father taught me, while praying to God that he was not an aggressive drunk. He staggered towards me until the stench of the alcohol on him was almost unbearable.

He smiled stupidly as he gripped my arm, "Little one, I knew your father. What would he say if he knew what you were doing now?"

No doubt he would have been angry. The man seemed to have known my thoughts and leaned into me closer, "He would've been angry, you bet damn right he would have been angry. You're a naughty little thing. He's probably turning in his grave right now."

His eyes were unfocused and his breath fanned my face in a way that made my stomach turn. I immediately tightened every one of my muscles; this man was just intoxicated beyond all reasoning. I had to get away from him, and so carefully I pried his dirty fingers from my arm.

"Excuse me, Signor." I ducked my head away from his gaze, "It is getting late, and they will wonder where I am."

He continued on as if he didn't hear me, "It's a good thing he's dead too, or he'd kill me for what I'm about to do to you."

The man's laughter rang in my ears as I tried to tear my arm away from his large, dirty hand. With fleeing the only thing on my mind I kicked him in his shin as hard as I could. His grip weakened and I slipped my arm from his grasp and made to run past him.

Oh how he screamed at me! His large hands fisted their way into my hair and pulled me back towards him. The pain in my scalp was unbearable and I cried out as he threw my body to the ground and draped his large leg over me.

"Let me go!" I screamed, tears welling in my eyes. I tried pushing his leg off of me, but it only spurred him on more. Managing to slide my way out from underneath him I scrambled to escape once more, but again he grabbed me firmly on the arm and jerked me back, this time with less care, and my head bounced against the street below me. My vision swam as he sat on top of me once more, this time a very noticeable bump between his thighs. I closed my eyes to try and fight the dizziness that was overcoming me. I prayed he hadn't seen my tears.

I continued to struggle underneath him despite my confusion which earned me a loud moan. I was disgusted and fought harder, until suddenly the man on top of me was silent and stiffening. I opened my eyes, and the three men soon turned into one, with his eyes bulging and his mouth agape. His face turned from a vibrant red to a dark purple, and it was then did I realize there were two long, bony hands wrapped around his fat neck with the utmost ease. They seemed to be hardly putting in a struggle against the weakening resistance of the man they were killing. Eventually his body went limp, and the hands pushed the heavy body off of my waist. I tried to forget the corpse beside me, and instead looked up to my savior.

"Thank you." I breathed.

"You're alright?" He asked tentatively. His voice was unlike anything I had ever heard before in my life. It was songlike and completely hypnotic. I smiled at him warmly, and visibly he was taken aback.

"I am now," I replied, "Thank you. If it weren't for you, I…"

"You should probably not be out here so late a night, especially by yourself," he chided, which saved me from having to continue, "You should return to where you came from."

Ignoring the dizziness I still felt I slowly I stood up. When I was lying down he seemed to tower over me, but we were the same height once I stood. The person whom the hands belonged to was as long and bony as his fingers. He wore tattered and dirty gypsy clothing that hung loosely of his skeletal body. He looked so impoverished and malnourished, yet he carried himself like he was nobility. However, I couldn't help but feel the way he rolled his shoulders back and puffed out his chest was simply to intimidate anyone from getting too close; he seemed lonely. Covering not only his face, but his whole head, was a sack – like mask, dark and leathery. Two amber eyes shone from underneath the fabric, and no mouth hole was visible. He must have seen the confusion all over my face for he turned to leave. His movements were as fluid and beautiful as his voice. He was so intriguing that I couldn't let him leave, and I immediately gripped the only thing I could, his shirt sleeve. It was a gutsy thing to do, especially seeing his talent for murder only moments before; he could have easily turned to use it against me.

He was right, but the Signora would have noticed my absence by now, and would have a beating prepared for my return. "Please wait." I let go of his sleeve, and he stood there like a statue, "My name is Luisa. I'd like to know who you are, please."

The boy was silent for a long moment before finally replying in a whisper that seemed to be carried along by the wind, "Erik."

His Italian was absolutely perfect, but Erik was not an Italian name. I wondered about his gypsy attire again. "It's nice to meet you, Erik." I finally said, deciding that it didn't matter, because he had saved my life, "And thank you again."

This time I didn't protest when he disappeared into the night.

* * *

I returned to the inn shortly after Erik disappeared from my sight like a skilled magician. Fortunately, the residents had all retired for the night, and without a peep I slipped into my own bed in the kitchen. Unfortunately, the Signora knew I had snuck away and woke me up the next day with a rather harsh beating.

The wife of the innkeeper was the one who saw to us orphans, and in her aging she had grown to become rather spiteful to the pretty young girls she kept under her care. She was particularly cruel to them. The rest of us who were plainer in appearances were far better off, though it didn't keep us safe from her cruelty.

"Luisa," she called to me as I returned from cleaning the out house, her pudgy legs resting on the dirty table in front of her, "I'm thirsty, would you fetch me water?"

I nodded silently, and quickly fetched her drink. Children have forfeited meals for keeping the Signora waiting. I had fortunately been quick enough, and she rewarded me with a nod of approval, "Luisa," she addressed me again, once she had finished drinking, "Where did you run off to last evening?"

I blinked, unsure of what to tell her, "Only for some fresh air, Signora. I won't do it again."

Her thin lips distorted into an ugly frown, "It will not happen again, or you will have a beating much worse than this morning's. Now go to the market. The kitchen pantry is running rather low."

She handed me enough money to purchase groceries for a little under a fair price, guaranteeing I would be thrifty with her money and not have any left to keep for myself. I spent a rather uneventful morning arguing with grocers over produce and weaving through the crowds when I caught sight of my father's old employer perusing the market as well.

"Ciao, Signor Giovanni!" I called out. Signor Giovanni was a generous man in spirit. He was a kind old man who was always very understanding when it came to my family's situation. However, my father always said under his breath how the man was far too particular about his work and could turn at the snap of his fingers into a dragon if his building didn't go as planned.

Curiously, he looked for where the greeting came from. I waved to him as his eyes skirted past me and as his attention drew on me his brow furrowed in thought. It was no surprise he didn't recognize me, since I was only ten the last time he had seen me. I immediately felt foolish.

I approached him with a bow. "It's Luisa, Signor. Giuseppe's daughter."

His confusion melted away and he smiled, "Luisa! Now I remember. You must forgive this old man. My, how you've grown from the little girl I remember. You would visit your father while he worked…" I smiled now too, but the old man's face fell slightly, "He was a good worker, a good father, and a good man. It was a hard loss."

"I miss him, too," I agreed. I also took the time to say a silent prayer for my father as an apology for not praying more and thinking about him even less than that as the stonesman cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Where have you been staying since then, my dear?" He asked, dabbing his chin with his handkerchief. He was a healthy man, considering his occupation would kill him far earlier than most other men his age.

I curtly and politely told him the name of the inn where I was employed. He frowned, unimpressed with my answer. Everyone knew what was to become of the orphans who lived there. I smiled politely again like my father taught me before I asked, "Signor, you look rather worn today, are things alright?"

Fortunately this changed the topic. He sighed defeated, "One of my workers was found dead this morning. The fool must have been drinking again and got into another fight… The fool, he had a wife to care for, even if she she was unbearable... Well, now we're one man short, and falling behind on our work. The deadline draws nearer and we seem to be no closer to our goal."

"I'm sorry to hear that, sir." I feign innocence, though my stomach did a slight twist at the news that he had a wife.

"Oh, don't mind the ramblings of an old man. It's nothing you should concern yourself with my dear... Luisa, please know my home is open to you. Your father would have wanted to be sure his daughter would be alright with him gone, and you are far too good a girl to have to resort to selling yourself in such a way. Do stop by sometime."

I smiled genuinely this time as I bid him farewell, and we both parted ways. Although I probably would never make good of the old man's offer, I still was very touched by his kindness and I could not help thinking about it as I continued shopping. He had three daughters who all were away from home, and no doubt he was lonely. Living with him would be rather comfortable, and most likely very content. Even when I returned later than the Signora had anticipated and I was smacked with the back of her wooden spoon the idea still shone above the stinging pain. I was sent to bed with no supper, but the hunger was the last thing on my mind.

Perhaps I would make good on Signor Giovanni's offer.

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**A.N.** Woot! From here on out we'll see a lot more Erik. Just give me a quick little review so we can see it happen faster!


	3. Chapter 3

**a.n. Hi there, things have been awfully busy, but here I am! I still don't own PoTO, and I really hate this chapter... well, things'll get better from here on out ( I hope! )**

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Work after that point was particularly demanding. More often than not I was cleaning or learning with the Signora about the ways to satisfy a man's carnal desires. Soon I was spending more and more time at the inn. With a newfound fervor, I started to keep my eyes open for Signor Giovanni whenever I was able to go out for errands or trying to collect money from the large tabs that had been run up at the bar. Eventually I completely forgot about his offer.

I was so preoccupied by all the work that I hadn't noticed how desperate my employers became until late one evening, as I was about to drift off to sleep did I hear them talking rather loudly a few rooms down. I crept out of my room to press my ear against their bedroom door.

"No one is paying us back, Mirella… I don't know what to do! I fear we won't have enough to keep us fed soon." The innkeeper's voice rose, which was rather peculiar for the usually soft-spoken man; he was frantic. The Signora shushed him and I pressed my ear to the door more firmly. I was curious, what were they going to do?

"Those drunkards have the money, they just don't pay because they are used to being spoiled by you! Refuse to serve them any more until they pay up. They will do so eventually."

It was true, many a man did drink for free when they drank here; the Signor was far too laid back a man to demand money. It was more of his wife's job. I pressed my ear against the wall harder.

"But until then, Mirella," he said, a little calmer, yet his voice was still strained, "Until then, what will we do about money? Things will be tight until then."

I bit my lower lip. What did it mean for us here? Unable to hear anymore I returned to my own bed, but the situation weighed on my mind rather heavily. Although not the most hospitable of homes, the inn was all I had. That was when I remembered: _Signor Giovanni!_

Tomorrow I would see him and tell him what was wrong. I could only pray he would be able to do something for me.

The next morning I rose rather early, since I had spent most of the night thinking up a plan, and the rest was spent anxiously tossing and turning while I waiting for the sun to rise. I entered the pub area and there sat the Signora, looking as frazzled as I felt.

"Good morning, Signora," I greeted. She raised a thin eyebrow in my diection.

"What has you so up early?" Even when asking a simple question, her tone had a bite. I swallowed my nerves.

"Signora, I was wondering if… if perhaps… Maybe I could, um, have a few hours for myself this morning? I've been working hard."

She gave me a frosty glare, "Lazy girl. What sort of business does an orphan have?" What sort of business indeed? I hadn't thought of a reason outside that I had been working hard.

And yet I heard myself reply calmly with, "I want to visit my parents."

The Signora matched my nervous determination with narrowed eyes.

"Please?" I asked once more, and she sighed.

"An hour. You have an hour, and no more."

That was all I needed, I thanked her and rushed out the door. If I could find Signor Giovanni fast, then I could actually remain truthful. Guilt was making me regret lying about my plans.

The streets were still waking as I made my way through them. I had to ask several people the way to his home as I made my way there, and it took to much time. My frustration grew as I knocked on the door and I received no answer. I had just about given up when the door swung open.

"Who on earth is breaking down my door?" The Signor's voice spoke from the inside. He flung open the door in exasperation and stood dumbstruck when he saw it was only me.

"Good morning, sir," I said evenly, despite the look on his face. I fought back a small smile.

"Luisa, it's rather early, don't you think?"

"Yes sir, but I need to talk to you."

He hesitantly invited me into his sitting room after a few moments of contemplation where I immediately became terribly self conscious: his home was beautiful.

"What's the matter, my dear?" He asked, casting nervous glances towards a flight of stairs that most likely descended into the cellar of his home. I watched him for a moment, curious to what he was hiding down there, when he encouraged me to continue with a tired smile. I told him what I had learned the previous night and my fears that I would have to begin making use of the lessons the Signora was teaching me to compensate for the poverty the inn was falling into. He was silent for a moment before pacing a few times. He cast several short glances at the stairs leading to the cellar before I spoke again.

"Maybe, sir, I could come here and clean for you? I can cook too, though not very well yet."

He stopped his pacing to turn to me and raise a hand, and I apologized. He chuckled as he patted my head, "Run along now Luisa. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Signor, really."

I left without another word, and as quickly as I could to stop by the cemetery where my family was. Things were looking bright for me and I said happy prayers for my young brother and parents before sprinting back to the inn. I suppose I was prompt enough, for the Signora said nothing harsh upon my arrival back and sent me to launder dirty sheets. I was simply thrilled about how the day was going. The sun started sinking lower into the sky, and I, still on my silly little cloud of hope, expected to see Signor Giovanni there before the day was over, and when he didn't show up my high hopes crashed into a dejected heap. The sun was gone from the sky entirely and the patrons at the bar were all beginning to stagger back to their homes, and by then I was simply desperate. I helped the Signora clean that evening, staying up as long as I could in case Signor Giovanni was planning on coming later to avoid the loud crowds, but the cleaning was soon done, and I was sent to bed feeling utterly defeated.

There was always tomorrow, I hoped, and though I was exhausted I couldn't sleep from the anticipation. Somehow I managed to drift off, but it seemed as if morning came right after. I groggily made my way to the bar where the Signora would be waiting, and it was then I saw her and the Signor chatting with none other than Giovanni.

"Good morning," I greeted, my voice still thick with sleep, and I hoped they didn't notice. Signor Giovanni greeted me, and the Signora skipped the greeting to wave me beside them.

"Luisa, the Signor wants someone to keep house for him," she began, I stole a quick glance at my father's former employer and he nodded at me and smiled.

"Perhaps I could?" I asked innocently.

The Signora frowned, "I need you here."

Her husband sputtered, "Really Mirella! There are other children, and the Signor deserves a good worker like Luisa." I felt myself smile again; I could only wonder what Giovanni offered them!

"I suppose that settles it then," Giovanni smiled, and so did the Signor. My madam was cross, though she said nothing and left to both some of the other children.

"What time may I come over, sir?" I asked, he told me early evening would be fine, and departed. The Signor happily shooed me to help his wife. I helped her readily with every little thing she asked me to do until she sent me away to wash up before going to help Signor Giovanni. I left the few belongings I decided to keep with me under my cot, since I was unsure if his home was to become my new residence (I would have to ask him later on), and merrily went on my way to see the aging man, before I left, the Signora offered to accompany me. I accepted.

"Remember your manners," she said, "Don't touch anything that you are not cleaning… I suppose my husband is right that Giovanni needs someone like you working for him. It's a good thing you're so plain or else I'd be more adamant in keeping you."

It was true, while I was not ugly or extremely beautiful, I was rather undescript. I looked like any other Italian girl. My face was heart shaped, my eyes far too wide and far too dark, my hair thick and wavy, and my lips a tad on the thin side. The only thing I was rather proud of was my paler skin, which I had gotten from my mother, who had been French.

The sun was just beginning to set when we reached Giovanni's home. I knocked on his door, this time with not as much force, and he opened the door, his face warm and welcoming. "Well hello there. Please, come in."

We did, and if the Signora was impressed by his home, she did a good job of showing it. However, I noticed she puffed out her chest more and looked down the bridge of her nose. The Signora and Giovanni began to have a formal conversation about this arrangement, and I took the initiative to look around his home, from the cozy kitchen and dining areas, to a peak up his stairs from the first step. It took all of my self – control to not go into the cellar. The Signora's voice was rising in volume rather quickly, so I returned to the two adults.

"She simply must stay with you if she is to be working for you! Otherwise she'll simply take up space."

"But Mirella," he protested, his face paling a little, "You must understand, I would take her in if I could, but there are certain circumstances…"

She Signora simply tsked, and Signor Giovanni handed her some money as a retort. It seemed to ease her temper, and promptly she left. I had half a mind to ask why I had to return to the Inn, but Giovanni immediately proceeded to give me a tour of his home – everywhere but the cellar – and then suggested I start my work by tidying up the kitchen.

"Although," he chuckled, "I'm a lonesome old man, and there's hardly anything for you to do. I'll leave more of a mess for you from now on."

And he did, albeit the messes he left were hardly messes that took very much cleaning to get rid of. I began to go shopping for him as well in the mornings, and I would occasionally return in the evenings to clean. There were some instances however, when Giovanni would shoo me away with an apology and a furrowed brow. Other times he would allow me to stay later than I would normally have stayed, and we would have a conversation about this or that with a cup of tea to hold us over.

I worked for Signore Giovanni in this way for a month or so until one evening, the Signor invited me into his home. I began my work, sweeping out the kitchen, with some small conversation going between Giovanni and myself. The topic of his latest work came up, and as if it reminded him of something. He excused himself, promising to be back in a short while.

I paid it no mind, and continued my work, humming or singing to fill the quiet that the Signor left me in; I was used to him being there speaking with me as I cleaned or cooked. Working for Giovanni was a blessing. I heard a door open as I was putting the broom away and I rushed to meet him at the door, thankful I was no longer alone.

"Welcome back Signor!" I called happily, until I realized my mistake.

He was as gaunt as I remembered him, though this time with cleaner, newer clothes. The same leathery sack was draped over his head and his yellow eyes were wide in surprise, just as mine probably were.

It was Erik!


End file.
